


the first snow is like the first love

by gentle_autumn_rain



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Snow, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 19:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21123893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gentle_autumn_rain/pseuds/gentle_autumn_rain
Summary: Victor and Yuuri enjoy their first snowfall together in St. Petersburg.





	the first snow is like the first love

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first yuri on ice fic and it's very self-indulgent, so please forgive any inaccuracies. thanks for reading!

“Yuuri…”

A lilting voice punctures the warm cloud of sleep. Yuuri wrinkles his brow and burrows his face deeper into his pillow.

“C’mon solnyshko, it’s time to get up.”

This time, the voice is accompanied by gentle tugging of the covers. Yuuri lets out a groan and pulls them back.

“Yuuri, love, it’s snowing outside! The first snow of the season. Don’t you want to go outside and enjoy it?”

With monumental effort, Yuuri blinks open one eye to glare at Victor. “No. Go away.”

Unfortunately, this does little to deter Victor, who at the best of times has little regard for the commands of others. He gives the covers a stronger yank, cruelly exposing Yuuri to the cold air. Yuuri groans louder this time, keeping his eyes stubbornly shut.

“Makkachin! Come help me get Yuuri up!”

There’s the sound of claws scratching the floor and a thump on the bed, and suddenly there’s a warm tongue licking Yuuri’s cheek. He screws up his face and tries to pull away, but he can’t help but let out a laugh, which Makkachin only seems to take as encouragement. To prevent being absolutely bathed in dog slobber, Yuuri finally opens his eyes and pushes himself up, lightly nudging the poodle away, although he does deposit a kiss on her snout as an apology.

“Don't I get a kiss, too?” Victor pouts from where he’s sitting on the side of the bed.

“Kisses are only for people who don’t drag their poor fiancés out of bed on their day off at ungodly hours.”

“To be fair, darling, it is past eight.”

“Hmph.”

“And snow, Yuuri! It’s snowing! We have to go outside!”

“You’re Russian, Victor, I’m pretty sure you’ve seen snow before.”

“But this is our first snow together in St. Petersburg…”

Unable to handle how far Victor’s bottom lip is sticking out, Yuuri relents, leaning over to drop a kiss on his nose. He starts to move away, but Victor doesn’t let him get very far. Using Yuuri’s unsteady position to his advantage, he pulls Yuuri so that he falls forward into Victor’s chest, and lets himself fall back onto the bed.

“I want a proper kiss.” Victor smirks up at Yuuri hovering over him, looking very pleased with himself. He’s wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s back to prevent escape. 

Yuuri knows he probably shouldn’t indulge Victor, but it’s hard to resist him when laughter is bubbling up Yuuri’s throat and Victor is giving him a look that always makes Yuuri weak at the knees.

“You are a bad, bad man,” Yuuri murmurs, then finally gives Victor what he’s been after and kisses him on the lips. He only intends for it to be a peck, but Victor has other ideas, angling his head into long, drawn out kisses, one of his hands on Yuuri’s back slipping significantly lower than where it had started. Yuuri gives in immediately, kissing Victor back and running his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Victor’s neck.

This is Yuuri’s favorite way to start the day.

Their makeout session, as Phichit would teasingly and Mari would derisively describe it, is interrupted by a furry snout snuffling at their heads and a low whine. They break apart, and Yuuri huffs out a laugh at the sad look Makkachin is giving both of them. He rolls off the bed while his fiancé transfers his attentions to the overgrown puppy, scratching her ears and cooing at her.

“Well,” Yuuri says, looking down at the two ridiculous creatures on his bed. “I think it’s time to enjoy our first Russian snow together, don’t you Vitya?”

Victor beams at him.

As much as Victor had talked up the first snowfall in St. Petersburg, when they step outside into the crisp morning air, there’s barely more than a dusting on the ground and only a few small flakes are drifting down. There is just enough, however, for Yuuri to scoop some up and pack it into a snowball. Victor has bounded ahead into the deepest area of snow – which is still only about eight centimeters – and when he turns, heart-shaped smile on his face, Yuuri strikes.

Victor’s look of utter shock and the sight of snow dripping down his nose send Yuuri into peals of laughter. He quickly tries to muffle it with his glove over his mouth, but it’s too late. Recovering from his surprise, Victor affects a betrayed look, pressing his hand over his heart.

“Betrayed by my own darling Yuuri, who I would move heaven and hell for! How cursed I am to love someone so cruel to me.” He staggers back as if shot, his face adopting an exaggerated forlorn expression. “I cannot possibly go on living when the light of my life displays such wickedness!”

The faux-anguish in Victor’s voice reminds Yuuri of a high school theater performance he had once seen of Hamlet, and he can’t help but giggle at Victor’s dramatics. He covers his face with his hands, peeking out through his fingers, but the laughter still escapes.

“And now he laughs at my pain!” Victor laments. “What did I do to deserve such heartlessness?”

Yuuri’s giggles only get louder, and he almost misses the gleam in Victor’s eye before he launches himself towards Yuuri. Still laughing, Yuuri stumbles backwards, but he fails to escape the handful of snow dropped on the top of his head and down the back of his coat. He yelps at the cold and jumps away, much to Victor’s delight. Sputtering, Yuuri narrows his eyes at him through fogged glasses.

“You’re going to regret that, Victor Nikiforov,” he says, and throws himself into Victor’s arms, knocking both of them back into the snowbank. He makes sure to cradle the back of Victor’s head with his hand before they land.

Several snow fights and strategic makeouts later, the two of them are soaking wet, shivering, and flushed with cold. Yuuri’s teeth start chattering as they start making their way back to the apartment building, and Victor gives him a concerned look and throws his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders, rubbing his hand up and down Yuuri’s arm.

“D-did you enjoy our f-f-first Russian snow t-together?” Yuuri manages to get out.

Victor frowns at him, then rubs at his arm more vigorously. “It was perfect, darling.”

“G-good. I’m g-glad you m-made me c-c-come out here.”

Victor presses a kiss to the top of his head. “I am too. Now let’s get you inside, love, you’re practically frozen.”

Yuuri sighs a breath of relief as they step into the warmth of the apartment building, his muscles instantly relaxing. They take the elevator up, leaning against each other and watching their reddened cheeks and sparkling eyes in the elevator mirror. As they step back into the apartment, shedding their coats, Makkachin greets them at the door. Yuuri bends down to pet her and heat his icy face in her warm fur.

“Shower?” Victor asks, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Yuuri shakes his head.

“I think I’m just going to change and sit by the fire.”

He straightens from kissing Makkachin and starts to head towards the bedroom, but he’s stopped by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist from behind.

“Thank you.” Victor’s voice is muffled from where his head is buried in Yuuri’s shoulder.

“For what?” Yuuri says softly, reaching up a hand to stroke Victor’s hair.

“For understanding.”

And Yuuri does understand. Both of them had been so lonely for so long that finding each other had felt like stepping into the sunlight after a long winter. Victor grounds Yuuri, prevents him from getting too trapped inside his own head, and Yuuri makes Victor feel like a person again, like someone who is imperfect yet loved all the same. So Yuuri knew exactly what Victor was really talking about when he spoke excitedly about the first snowfall in St. Petersburg. It’s something else that they can share – another reminder of the life they have built together.

Yuuri doesn’t say any of that; Victor already knows. Instead, he presses a kiss to Victor’s forehead. The answering smile he can feel against his neck tells him that Victor understands, too.


End file.
